


The man that was Alexander Hamilton

by probablysleepingin



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Misgendering, Periods, Transphobia, Violence, based off real events that have happened to me with a little bit of fiction, but it's not graphic, john is a really good boyfriend, trans!alex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:32:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7926043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/probablysleepingin/pseuds/probablysleepingin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas is kind of an asshole but not actually a horrible person, John wants his boyfriend to be happy, and Alex wants to stop fucking bleeding and crying during cabinet meetings</p>
            </blockquote>





	The man that was Alexander Hamilton

 "Heavy flow?" The women asks while scanning his items. He supposes such talk is common amongst women, but he winces at the words anyway, is it really that obvious?

He'd only started T as of late and his voice was only just starting to break. Alex supposes it isn't the women's fault, still he breaths in deeply and tries to broaden his shoulders, tries to lower his voice, and lies.

"No. Uh. They're for my girlfriend, actually." His voice wobbles and he wants to hit himself, he should of taken John up on his offer when he'd suggested going instead, but the poor boy never knew what pads and tampons to get. It was easier for the both of them-not to mention faster-if Alex just took the bullet and brought them himself.

The women holds his bag out to him, smiling widely. "Well, aren't you a lovely girlfriend." Alex thinks he might throw up as he thanks the women and scurries out of the store with his purchase. Alex supposes he should be used to this by now.

/

Of course he would run into Thomas McFucking Jefferson in the car park, to preoccupied with trying to remember which pocket he'd shoved his keys into to see the man quickly approaching him until it was too late. He takes a few steps back as he stumbles, groaning upon realising who he'd just walked into. Alex supposes he should of seen this coming, but he's too doped up on pain killers too actually care, and for once in his life Alexander can't be bothered fighting with the man. Instead he pushes past, eyes scanning the car park for his shitastic station wagon. "Move outta my way, Jefferson."

Jefferson side steps so he's in Alex's direct path again, smirk ever present on his face. "I'm sorry, Hamilton, did you just tell _me_ to move out of _your_ way? If I recall you're the one who walked into _me_."

Alex supposes this is just his luck, but his head is starting to pound and he's becoming increasingly aware of how see through the plastic bag he's holding is.

"Please move out of my way, Jefferson. I'm not in the fucking mood." And maybe it's because his voice holds no bite to it for once, no malice, just sounds undeniably exhausted, but Jefferson's smirk drops and he steps to the side so Alex can walk past.

"I'll see you in the office tomorrow, then."

"Thank you." Alex all but breaths, hurrying to his car.

Thomas Jefferson may be an asshole, but he's not a horrible person. Alex supposes they could be friends, if they weren't political enemies.

He lets his head rest against the steering wheel before breathing in deeply and driving home.

/

"John? I'm home." The house is quite when Alex arrives. Alex didn't recall John having classes today, or having a shift at the local hospital, but maybe it had slipped his mind. He rounds the corner into the living room of their shared apartment and is greeted by a makeshift pillow fort. It would seem every pillow and blanket they own has been shoved over, in, and around the fort, Alex can't fight the smile that spreads across his face. He drops the plastic bag on the floor and crouches in front of what he assumes is the entrance of it.

"John?" Not minutes later John's head pops out of the entrance way, grinning widely and pressing a kiss to Alex's mouth before either of them can say hello. "I've got chocolates and all of the _Lord of the Rings_ and _Hobbit_ films on my laptop if you're feeling up for it?"

John is a saint, Alex knows this. He's set up this safe and cozy place just for the two of them, and Alex couldn't be more grateful. He pulls his hair out of its bun so that it doesn't squish against his head awkwardly when he lays down, and makes a move to wiggle in next to his boyfriend.

"One condition," John holds a finger up and pokes him in the chest. "Take you're binder off. You're at home. You're safe. You're okay and I love you, Alex." Alex complies and yanks his top off his head and shimmies out of his binder before pulling his, actually he thinks it's John's, shirt back on and crawls into the fort with John. He becomes the little spoon as is routine, and falls asleep somewhere between the second movie and John pressing soft kisses to the base of his neck. Alex supposes not everything in his life is great, but this right now, is more kinds of perfect then Alex believes he deserves.

/

Thomas Jefferson is apparently sick and bed ridden. He can't make it to the cabinet meeting, and sends his sincere apologies. At first Alex is angry everything has been postponed, only to be relieved when Washington announces Thomas has arranged for his intern to argue for him, only to be thrown back into burning fury when he finds out the intern is Charles 'DouchNugget' Lee. Lee knows exactly how to get under Alex's skin. It's not in the way Thomas does, either. The argument doesn't light a fire in his belly or make his toes curl. Lee makes attack after attack, his points well crafted (clearly written by Jefferson) but said with spite and venom. Alex thinks he might cry, and he mentally kicks himself and his body's stupid hormones. He's tired, he keeps getting hot flashes, and he just wants to go home.

Alex opens his mouth to retaliate but his body works against him and sucks in a shaky breath and it's so undeniably clear he's about to cry, Alex would rather be back in the Caribbean then meet Washington's worried gaze. Lee catches on right away, and doesn't even miss a beat as his eyes narrow in on him, but addresses Washington as he speaks. "Sir, maybe it _would_  be best to postpone this debate. It would seem Miss. Hamilton can't control her emotions. Unsurprising, she does frolic around this building pretending to be a _man_." Alexander slams his hand down on the table in front of him, and _damnit_ , he can _handle this_ , he _can_ , but hot, wet tears are already streaming down his face as he yells at Lee.

"What the _fuck_!? You _ignorant_ , _bigoted_ , _outdated_ piece of literal _shit_. That's uncalled for, not to mention inappropriate and I'll fucking _kill you_ -" Alex launches himself across the table, hands out stretched towards Lee.

Alexander actually misses Jefferson, they may have disagreed, but at least the democrat didn't actually ignite murderous intent within him. He feels arms around his waist and he thinks Security is pulling him backwards but he's screaming and kicking his legs and he knows he looks ridiculous and unprofessional but he can't believe Charles Lee fucking went _there_.

"This has nothing to do with hormones," Alex spits as Security drags him out of the room. "And my dick is none of your fucking business!"

Alex supposes he probably deserves the three week suspension Washington gives him (" _At least it's paid" John says with a weak smile._ ") and the onslaught of angry subtweets Lee writes about him.

/

Alex hates this. Hates himself, mostly, but also his body. It's not fair. It'll never be fair. Alex is curled up against John and he's wearing pyjama pants over his boxers because the last time he bled over the sheets (and John's pants leg) he'd felt so fucking disgusting and annoying, even though John had told him that, really, it didn't bother him, Alex couldn't help where and when he was going to start ovulating.

"You're attracted to me, right?" Alex whispers into the darkness, half hoping John is already asleep.

"Hm?" John mumbles. "Of course I am, babe. You're fucking hot." Alex feels John's hand dip down between his thighs and _oh_ , that's where he thinks this going.

Alex rolls over so that they're chest to chest, looking up at John with big puppy dog eyes. "That's not what I mean..."

The sentence seems to wake John up that extra bit and he leans over to turn the bedside lamp on so he can see Alex clearly. "What do you mean, _querido_?"

Alex supposes it's probably best to get this over and done with, get it off his chest while its fresh in his mind.

"When we have sex. Do you... _like_ it? I mean. You're gay and I...I don't have all the right parts." He struggles with the words. He knows what he wants to say, but actually saying them? Alex would rather hack up blood. "I'm soft and curvy like a girl and you like men but I don't look like one John and I'm never going to and I'm never going to be right and-"

John kisses Alex to stop his rambling and Alex is grateful for it. The kiss is slow and soft and sets a fire burning deep and low in Alex's stomach. It answers all of Alex's questions and doubts. When they pull apart John presses their foreheads together and tangles his fingers in his boyfriends hair.

"I love you, Alex. All of you, for you. The sex is amazing because you're amazing, but sex doesn't even matter Alex, what matters is you. And you're right, I _am_ attracted to men, that's why I'm dating _you_." Alex can't believe how lucky he got finding someone like John.

"I love you."

/

The week passes, Alex gets another shot of of testosterone, John punches Lee in the face, Alex loves his boyfriend, and Alex supposes everything is right in the world.


End file.
